


Big Black Beast

by Veelez (Hyela)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:47:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyela/pseuds/Veelez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being attacked by one of the Alphas, Stiles and Derek get surprised by the impulsions that it arises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Black Beast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homoeroticismforthewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticismforthewin/gifts).



> Stiles/Derek  
> Rated M for car sex.  
> Post-Canon, somewhere in S3

_See it coming at my head_  
 _I'm not running_  
 _I'm not scared_  
 _Big black monsoon_  
 _Take me with you_  
 _I'm not jerking_  
 _I won't hide_  
 _Yeah, I'm ready_  
 _Meet ze monsta tonight_  
~PJ Harvey, Meet Ze Monsta

They had won, thought Derek as he took a turn on a rural road outside of Beacon Hills. They’ve won this one battle, anyway. He should have been happy, but a small victory meant small, temporary happiness, so was it worth it? The thought that went through Derek’s mind had more of a ‘that was a close one’ bitter inclination. They’ve had a lot of ‘close ones’ recently, but no matter how hard he tried, he never got used to it and each ‘next time’ was barely better than the previous one.  
Right now, as he sat in his damaged camaro —they slammed their muscle engine into its rear, the bastards— Derek could feel the adrenaline slowly drop, making his hands tremble just a bit and his heartbeat painfully noticeable. Of course, it was nothing compared to Stiles, next to him, who not only had a worryingly fast heartbeat, but reeked of sweat, blood, mud and fear. His breath was loud and uneven, but he was quiet –which wasn’t normal.

  
Derek did not dare to look at him yet. Stiles just witnessed Lydia nearly being ripped apart by angry werewolves —after months of passive-aggressively circling each other, they had finally come to this point. Allison almost lost a limb trying to help her. Scott got hurt, although he was healing steadily. Stiles received some memorable blows too. In the end, they got the redhead back and she left with the huntress and the pack while Derek and Stiles were creating a distraction in one car, and Peter and Chris Argent in another. The hurt twins (and their lady of pain) must have gotten tired, as dawn was coming and police sirens could be heard in the distance, so they just disappeared, cancelling their plans for the day. He couldn’t see or hear anything alarming since half an hour ago, and the other groups had texted to signal they were still alive and well.

  
They didn’t take any chance and kept driving anyway.

  
Besides, Derek needed to calm himself. The images were still fresh in his mind, probably imprinted there forever among other traumatic paintings. Another almost-victim because of their serious lack of organization. Because of Scott’s fucking frustrating need to “talk things out”. But mostly because of his ineptitude as a leader. If he tried to go talk to anyone right now, something might snap, and he couldn’t have that happening. He needed to stay in control, no matter what.  
No doubt that Stiles didn’t appreciate his company right now. He’d rather be with Lydia. Or Scott. Anyone, really. But the jeep was crushed beyond recognition and they had to flee quickly. Very quickly. In fact, he should speed up a little. Why has he slowed down anyway?

  
He was going to push on the gas pedal when he felt fingertips against his shoulder. He pushed on the breaks instead and the car went to a brutal halt.  
Derek swallowed painfully. He had not realized he was on edge. He finally looked at Stiles.

  
Stiles appeared untidy, tired and a bit out of it. His face was bruised, red and purple in places, a mean gash under his chin —thankfully, not a werewolf wound. Yet, his eyes had a calm glint in them. He offered a small, unhappy smile and actually patted Derek’s shoulder awkwardly. Why.

  
“You look a little freaked out.” offered Stiles, quietly. Derek snorted, but did not answer. He supposed that stating the obvious was a mean of reassurance, but he found that he could not talk yet and his hands were clinching the wheel tightly. That was not good. He was supposed to be an example. He cleared his throat and forced himself to slowly release the break pedal to position the car on the side of the road before pulling the clutch in the parking mode. Then he killed the engine.

  
“At least, I’m not a bleeding kid with a rabbit heartbeat,” he finally uttered, unsatisfied with the slight irregularity in his voice that ruined the sarcasm. Stiles let out a ‘tst’ and shook his head

  
“See, most of it isn’t my blood. You’d know it if you could concentrate. I’m surprised we didn’t get into a road accident. Now is not the time to fold into yourself, man.”

  
Derek felt a sting of annoyance at that. “Easy for the rescued damsel in distress to give advice after the action is passed!” he snapped.

  
Stiles frowned: “Hey, my help was warranted and you know it. I’m just saying. Don’t retract, you’ll only hurt yourself more. You need to stop trying to put everything on your shoulders, because—”

  
“You know, Stiles, my parents are dead. I’m not really looking for new ones.”

  
Stiles stared at him, abashed. “Dude, it’s not a platitude. Believe me, I do the same thing and I realized that it’s not—”

  
“Would you stop?! You were quiet on the way here, wherever we are, and that was a breath of fresh air!” That was a lie, but Derek had no patience for any advice right now. Good, bad advice... the sound of any voice would grate on his nerves. So much for being worried about Stiles’ silence. He was now yearning for it. At least, they were back to normal. Ish. But Stiles wasn’t having any of it.

  
Stiles puffed out his chest indignantly. He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned towards Derek. “Now, listen to me, mister the mighty alpha! I know what it is to lose a parent! What it feels like to be cared for, to feel helpless, and then to have to care for someone myself! I fear for my father’s security every fucking day since I’ve met you, okay?! And it’s not my fault if your erratic behaviours makes me feel unsafe!”

  
“I’d like to see you try doing a better job–”

  
“I HAVE done a better job than you in the past–”

  
“You have NO idea what it entails to be a leader, Stiles! You are quite comfortable criticizing from your corner–”

  
“Please, as if I do nothing! As if I’m not as much a part of this! You’re the whiner! Don’t be fucking insult–”

  
“Well, maybe you should do nothing at all! Then you wouldn’t get hurt under my watch every time something happened–”

  
“Would you stop making this all about you! People get hurt all the time! You think I don’t stress about it all the time? Sometimes it’s what it takes to make things go forward! We won, didn’t we?!”

  
“Winning isn’t worth it if you end up in a hospital bed with irreversible damage!”

  
Derek had noticed it. He had noticed them getting closer to yell in each other’s face; he had noticed the dilated pupils, the out-of-control expression, the rising of different feelings making their bodies react a few different ways, the smell of fear disturbingly getting mixed with lust. Still, in the heat of the moment, he had not processed any of that and was quite surprised when long, bony fingers grabbed his jacket tightly and pulled him forward; when soft, cold lips crashed painfully against his own.

  
Later, he would like to say that his brain short-circuited; that he didn’t know what he was doing anymore, from this moment on. Alas, he had learnt that making excuses would always come to bite you in the ass. Either you accepted that you were responsible for your own actions, or you’d be running for the rest of your life. Been there, done that.

  
Truth is, Derek did feel an overwhelming mix of feelings in that moment. He felt the lust immediately heating up his skin and building pressure in his groin. He felt the anger sparks because Stiles was not listening anymore, shutting him up, choosing feelings over reason (and Stiles usually was a reasonable person). There was this crippling anxiety due to being rusty in that... field, and due, of course, to bad experiences. There was the fear of being distracted, but also the relief of being able to be so. And then, he was gripped as well by that strange novel emotion of joy because he was, in this moment at least, wanted. Completely and unabashedly wanted.

  
Yet, he was very conscious, and many indignant voices in his head were yelling about repercussions. About the sheriff getting mad and distrustful (‘you are manipulating my son,’ he would say, ‘charming him into endangering himself for you’); the truce between Scott and him being broken because Scott did not trust him so close of his friends; his pack feeling put aside because he preferred Scott’s little lieutenant to them; the hunters fearing he’d want to turn Stiles; Peter using the information to his advantage for God knows what.... Every possible negative outcome was swirling in his mind. He just chose to ignore it. Perhaps that made him even more despicable. He’d care about that later. He selfishly gloated about being kissed and wasn’t feeling like dwelling in self-pity and being the responsible one anymore. It didn’t do much for him before, after all.

  
Stiles was pressing up against him, all force and no technique, kissing him despite Derek’s tardiness to respond. A hand climbed to his hair and pulled sharply, changing the angle. Derek moaned in shock. Who knew that Stiles was such an aggressive kisser. ‘But of course’ Derek thought with a bit of pride, ‘you are the one bringing up this passion in him.’

  
Smiling against his lips, Stiles did not pull back or stop to brag about the sound he pulled out of Derek. Probably he thought that the moment he stopped, Derek would chastise him and threaten him into never doing it again. Was not gonna happen.

  
Derek was already getting drunk in want. He brought his hands to Stiles neck and caressed it, short of pressing, then started kissing back with a renewed vehemence. Stiles let him take control of the kiss, one hand roaming through his hair and the other clenching and unclenching on his jacket before going to his chest. Derek pulled back just enough to nibble at Stiles’s chin and then at his jaw. The teen let out a ragged sigh and his hands trembled. A sort of roar resonated through Derek’s body, his first nature making him enjoy twice as much what was happening. His teeth and claws did not grow like they would have if he was still an eager teenager, but he had to actually concentrate a little to restrain them. Just a little, but enough to slowly transform the joy into near-euphoria.  
He’s forgotten how good it was to desire something, and to be desired in return. Even if it didn’t go further —and he suspected this wouldn’t, what with the complex context and all. ‘Seize the day, little brother,’ often said Laura, laughing at his seriousness. He pushed that thought away, not wanting to think about his sister right now. His sister or... someone else.

  
“You think too much.” mumbled Stiles, a bit out of breath. He pulled on Derek’s hair, who let his head leaned back so that Stiles could look at him in the eyes. “Just... don’t think. It’s already happening. It’s already altered the future, or whatever. We’ll deal later. I... Right now I need you.”  
Derek grinned cockily. Stiles frowned and swat him on the head.

  
“Stop it, you arrogant idiot. Besides, I think you need me too.”

  
“What about Lydia?” he asked, half-serious.

  
Stiles snorted “What about her? We’re not married. Or together, for that matter. I won’t be faithful while she’s not. Why’d you have to bring up Lydia?”

  
“What about the fact that I have seven years on you?” he asked, unsmiling.

  
“Do I look like an innocent, naive, blushing little girl to you?” Stiles rolled his eyes and looked genuinely insulted when Derek shrugged flippantly. “Seriously? I’m old enough to bash a werewolf on the head with a baseball bat. I think I can handle your dick.”

  
“What about—”

  
“Derek, later! Don’t kill the mood! Please! Losing confidence by the second here!” Stiles was barely holding into place. Derek smiled playfully. He had actually no intention of stopping there, but he still needed to clear one thing out. So his conscience wouldn’t physically hurt later on.

  
“I just want to be sure you’re ready. That you know what you’re doing,” he answered, but he stroke himself as self-righteous and old fashioned, so he quickly added, deadpan, “Believe me, it’s really hard not to just tell myself ‘fuck it’ and ravish you right here, right now. You are a truly irresistible being.”

  
Stiles smiled, obviously delighted, and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how cheeky Derek was. Swiftly, he passed a leg over Derek and installed himself in his lap, carefully avoiding hitting his head on the roof. “Well, then, I’m ready and I know what I’m doing. Or not. Who cares? What are you waiting for?”

  
Derek put his hands on Stiles hips and squeezed a little. “I do care.”

  
“Says the guy who just told me a few minutes ago that maybe I should stay at home and do nothing. You know, like the useless little shit that I am.” It was said on a light tone, but there was real resentment in Stiles’s eyes.

  
“I get angry because I care,” Derek blurted out, “I care about this,” He kissed the gash on Stiles’s chin, “And I care about these.” He kissed the coloured bruise.  
Stiles shuddered and his hand went back to Derek’s hair, petting him. Had a thing for hair, hadn’t he?

  
“Aw. So, mean, grumpy sourwolf is really a cuddly bear with a heart of gold.” Stiles shrilled annoyingly. Derek groaned and bit him lightly, stirring up something like a whimper. The lusty feeling was coming back in force. “Watch out for the teeth, you animal,” Stiles drawled, “Don’t want to make me nervous, do you?”

  
“Stiles, you’re already a bundle of nerves. You are probably going to die of a heart attack at thirty,” replied Derek drily. It didn’t make Stiles laugh. In fact, Stiles leaned back and took Derek’s face in his delightfully long hands. At this point, Derek let himself wonder how they feel on his cock. He got the urge to buckle or pounce, but stared back at Stiles.

  
“Yeah, well, I still don’t want the bite.”

  
Shit. Did he have to bring this up now?

  
“Alright Stiles, I don’t know what image of me you made to yourself, but it’s not like I’m going to bite you without your consent... And I have enough control to not bite you if we fool around. You should know that.”

  
“And you totally accept my choice, and you realize you were hurtful, and you know deep down that I am most valuable and precious.” Added Stiles. Derek frowned at him, but Stiles only frowned back derisively. Persistent little pest.

  
“Come on, Stiles...” Derek lifted his hips, seeking friction and seeking to show Stiles that it wasn’t the moment for that. If he waited any longer, he’d change his mind and go back to feel guilty about this... whatever happened between them.

  
Stiles smirked. “Oh, impatient, are we? What could be done about that I wonder?”

  
“Fine, fine, look, you are valuable, and I meant it. I care. About your well-being. And you are not useless. You do a lot of good. Happy now?”

  
“I’ll hold you to it. Maybe I should make you swear—”

  
“Stiles!”

  
Stiles tightened his grip on Derek’s face and plunged, smacking their lips together. Derek nibbled playfully on his. What he lacked in experience, he definitely made up for with his enthusiasm. Inevitably, Stiles’ hands went back in Derek’s hair and pulled lightly, causing little sparks of pleasure and pain. Derek put some tongue in the kiss and laved the walls of Stiles’ mouth as a kind of reward. His hands slid from Stiles’ hips to higher under his wrinkled shirt. This made the teenager start to rut against him. Derek smirked and retracted one of his hand to cup Stiles’ grown erection. Stiles yelped in his mouth and fell backward on the wheel, grimacing. Derek snorted and received a glare.

  
“Going straight for the bullseye, you pig?” Stiles let out between his teeth: Derek kept massaging his cock through the fabric of his pants, slowly, almost lazily, almost expertly. Maybe he’d even done this before, but that wasn’t what Stiles was questioning.

  
“That’s the idea, little hair-puller,” drawled Derek, pressing harder. Stiles buckled and, in an instant, he was back against him.

  
“That’s rich coming from you, mister jaw-biter.” panted Stiles. It made Derek laughed and he kissed him on the jaw, before slowly making his way to his neck, nibbling and licking. He had one hand on the small of Stiles’ back, the other still at work up front. Stiles was vocal, but not as much as he thought he’d be. Not enough to keep him from mumbling some jabs, like:

  
“Ow, I see your doggy personality comes up during sex.”

  
Or

  
“Ah, and I’m the one supposed to be eager, but you’re a rock hard old perv yourself.”

  
“I should gag you,” hissed Derek while putting his hand inside Stiles’ pants, “but I think that should do.”

  
Stiles winced, but grinned all the same before his hands finally travelled south. He looked cheeky and confident, but his trembling fingers and heartbeat betrayed him. Derek chose to not allude to them: Stiles obviously wanted to appear strong and in control right now. Much like himself. And if Stiles wasn’t usually that good a liar, he knew how to play with the truth to camouflage it a bit.

  
Derek let him pull out his dick before clumsily stroking it, staring at Derek’s eyes in wonder, his grin slowly fading into serious, parted lips. Derek stared right back at him through half-lidded eyes and sped up his own rhythm in Stiles’ pants. It made the teenager squirms and moan before buckling again against his palm. He would not last long. Good. Most of Derek’s pleasure took its roots in Stiles’ ecstasy and want, anyway, not in his novice handjob.

  
Stiles ended up abandoning Derek’s cock in favour of going back to clutching his hair, eyes fluttering closed and mouth wide opened, a lustful raw sound coming out of it, as Derek speed up again and squeezed. It was strangely arousing. Seeing —and feeling— someone come apart was very nice indeed. He was starting to understand how Kate might have felt. Of course, he would never do anything unbearably cruel to Stiles. Not voluntarily.

  
Stiles came in his pants, all heated up and wild-looking with his spent expression and his bruises. He truly was beautiful. Handsome. Whatever.  
Derek rutted against him a bit and Stiles’ hand hurriedly went back to his dick.

  
“Sorry,” mumbled Stiles tiredly. He offered an apologetic smile as he finished Derek off, his hand slightly too firm, but nicely paced.

  
Derek came quietly, nicely. Afterwards, he took Stiles’ head between his hands and left kiss after kiss on his full lips, seemingly unable to let go. Stiles let him, one hand still playing with his hair, the other feeling his chest up. They shouldn’t go for a round two, though. They had to get their priorities in check, they had to go back to the others, they really had to—

  
BANG. BANG.

  
They both jumped, startled and frayed nerves, before turning their whole upper bodies towards the sound. Derek’s hands found Stiles shoulders, ready to push him onto the passenger seat before putting himself in front of him.

  
A police officer was standing outside the car, hunched forward, a sneer on his face. Stiles stiffened and paled a little. Derek only rolled down the window, keeping Stiles against him as the discomfort might make the man leave faster. The teenager squirmed a bit, but got the message and smiled uneasily at the law enforcer.

“Good morning officer,” said Derek easily, “Is there a problem?”

“That’s what I was gonna ask you boys, but I see that you got the situation well in hands.” answered the guy drily, clearly proud of his sarcasm. Damn. He wasn’t intimidated at all. He was ogling Stiles’ wounds, though, frowning a bit. Stiles smiled wider.

  
“Well, it’s allowed to park here, isn’t it?”

  
“Right, well, the nice people in this house,” he pointed to a big farmhouse away from the road, standing before vast fields. Uh. Derek hadn’t noticed it in his panic. “These people, they were getting worried since you weren’t moving. So they called me to check up on you.”

  
“How nice of them,” said Stiles, still smiling.

  
“Yeah. You know, there’s a bus stop not too far, and Mr Spencer’s kids play around here before going to school in the morning. You ought to find a better place to do... whatever it is you do.”

  
“Dully noted officer. We were quite finished anyway.”

  
The man nodded, but he seemed to hesitate and didn’t pull away immediately.

  
“How old are you, son?” Ah. Shit.

“Why, I’m eighteen. I know I look young, but don’t worry. We use protection.”

The police officer shrugged and smiled, but the look he gave Derek spoke louder. He cleared his throat and took a step back, staring at Stiles strangely.

  
“Well, you be careful. Horny young men that like to screw around in random places are a dime a dozen in jail.” He said, ignoring Derek’s indignant look and calmly going back to his car.

  
As he slowly went away, probably watching them in his mirror, Stiles expired a loud sigh and started laughing nervously.

  
“Well, that was close. I had forgotten that I could be afraid of such normal things like cops.”

  
“Yeah, so did I.” mumbled Derek.

  
“Aw, afraid of being accused of statutory rape?”

  
“Don’t joke about that!” barked Derek, pushing Stiles back into his seat. Stiles gawked, but sat himself and put on his security belt, his face crunching a bit. Derek hurriedly put his half-hard member back in his pants. Then he sighed. “Sorry. But yes. A little.”

  
Stiles shrugged. “For what it’s worth, for a moment, I thought this was my dad. Can you imagine him finding us entangled like that? Wouldn’t be good for his heart. Or mine.”

  
“Yeah. Well, your father won’t know about this. No one has to. Because this never happened and would never happen once, let alone twice.”

  
“Sure. I mean, that’s a given.” agreed Stiles a little too fast.

  
Derek started the car and took the direction for Beacon Hills, reality crashing down now that the cloud of lust had been dissolved. He had to begin making plans and strategies; to think about what he’d say to the others, especially Scott and Chris, both of which were probably going to explode in his face. They sure liked to do so, nowadays. Still, Derek couldn’t help but feel a bitter taste in his mouth at the idea of going home. The road appeared endless, infinite in the opposing direction, never stopping. Just going this way, Stiles by his side, it looked like a nice alternative. Nostalgia kicked in as he thought about Laura and him, a few years ago, visiting the Grand Canyon just for the sake of it, laughing in a carefree fashion for once. He saw himself doing something similar with Stiles and the thought, no matter how silly and irresponsible, felt good.

  
Derek smiled and patted Stiles on the shoulder. “Or so they think.”

  
Stiles smiled back, looking straight ahead, perhaps seeing something on the road too.

  
“Or so they think....”


End file.
